


Daniel In The Den

by AshleyFilippelli



Series: Things We Lost in the Fire [1]
Category: Better Call Saul (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Time, M/M, Oral Sex, Shower Sex, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:07:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25352932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshleyFilippelli/pseuds/AshleyFilippelli
Summary: Nacho leaps at an opportunity to get closer to Lalo. Only when he's deep in the lion's den does he realize the perilous position he's put himself in.Day 6 of Lacho Week: BetrayalThis is also a companion piece to my work "Things We Lost in the Fire", where Nacho is struggling with how quickly he developed intense feelings for Lalo. This is now I envisioned their romance/affair beginning.
Relationships: Amber/Jo/Ignacio "Nacho" Varga, Eduardo "Lalo" Salamanca/Ignacio "Nacho" Varga
Series: Things We Lost in the Fire [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1836016
Comments: 7
Kudos: 19
Collections: Lacho Week 2020





	Daniel In The Den

**Author's Note:**

> This is only my second time writing smut, please no bully...

Nacho knew the instant Lalo slid the small trashcan into his lap and helped him wrap his own quaking arms around it that he hadn’t blown it. He’d won more than just Lalo’s trust with that long jump on the roof of the trap house; otherwise, he wouldn’t be soothing Nacho after he had just thrown up tequila and tacos all over his Tio’s coffee table.

“S’okay. Too many cigars and Cuervo shots, eh?”, Lalo murmured while sliding him from the leather couch onto the tile after his second bout of vomiting ceased.

_Alcohol. Food. Nerves from today’s meeting with Fring. Nerves from playing poker with you. The fact that you wanted to kiss me just now…_

He opted to just gasp and nod, shuddering as he dry heaved for a bit longer into the bin. Lalo’s wiry hands kneaded at the knots of his back and shoulders as he sat behind Nacho’s hunched form.

“Oh, Nachito… I never would have guessed you were such a lightweight, man.”

He’s sure he’s a pathetic and disgusting sight, shuddering on the floor with puke on his face and jeans. But Lalo stays close, hovering in concern, his thighs spread wide so he can bracket Nacho’s frame as he works and massages his muscles. He decides to play to this tiny bit of power he has in the moment.

“Lo siento.”, he mumbles as he wipes his face with the dishtowel Lalo offers him.

He deftly avoids the tears that leaked from his eyes as his stomach was trying to turn itself inside out. Nacho schools his features to look up at Lalo with his usual neutral, intense stare. His face falls imperceptibly further; Nacho’s theatrics do the trick.

“It happens. Did you work out today? That can make it easier to get sick like that.”

He nods while sliding the bucket of sick away from himself. He tents one knee up to rest his elbow on and half turn back to Lalo. He rubs at his face while psyching himself up to seal the deal

“I want to…”, Nacho sniffles as he traces the fringe on Lalo’s loafers sheepishly. “I’ve just never been with… another man.”

_The best lies are sprinkled with a little bit of truth, after all._

Lalo hums his understanding, giving his shoulders a few more squeezes before he stands.

“We’ll talk another time, amigo. Let’s get you home.”

He allows Lalo to support him to the passenger seat and even lets him buckle him in. He draws the line at his gate, insisting he’s sobered up enough to not need to be tucked into bed. It’s partially to keep him in the dark about Amber and Jo; something tells Nacho that Lalo would not approve of the implied “roommate agreement” he has with them.

He bides his time for the next few days, building the tension as well as his own confidence that he can pull this honeypot mission off. He approaches Lalo at the restaurant late in the week about a more private night of dinner and drinks, same time, same place.

This is no different than when he sleeps with Amber or Jo, he tells himself. It’s a simple exchange of goods and services. The girls want drugs and he wants whatever scraps of companionship he’s allowed. Inversely, Lalo now wants a trusted companion and Nacho needs to ensure his father’s survival with business updates for Fring.

All of these goals can be achieved if he sleeps with Lalo.

It’s no different than with Amber and Jo.

He’s been in a liar’s game since he was 16, anyway.

He can do it.

It’s no different.

_It’s no different._

Nacho repeats this mantra until the moment Lalo pushes him flat into the sofa while kissing and pins him down with is taller body. Right then, he can barely even form a full thought.

X-----X-----X

“Lalo, I’ve never done this.”

His Nachito is so cute when he’s nervous.

Lalo had only seen glimpses of uncertainty shine through Ignacio’s calm and calculating demeanor before Thursday night. It burst through to the surface in the form of his whispered remainder and his shaking fists clenched in the lapels of Lalo’s shirt. He looks down at Nacho as his brows furrow and he chews on his bottom lip and absurdly feels like he’s about to deflower the prom queen.

He chuckles at the thought and moves back to kissing Nacho, immediately returning to familar territory to help reassure him of his safety.

“Relájate bebé. Voy lento.”

He stuck to his word. There’ll be other times, when Ignacio is in a comfortable environment and has more experience. Now, it’s about establishing rapport, getting him hooked and wanting more. Lalo strips off his own shirt so Nacho doesn’t feel so exposed, quaking and naked on the leather except for his unbuttoned blazer and black converse shoes.

Ignacio shuddered throughout his ministrations and it was beautiful. He watches propped up on his forearms, wide-eyed and slack jawed, as Lalo pleasures him with his mouth and hands. He’d been so overwhelmed that he hardly made a sound and barely moved other than what was involuntary. When Lalo’s mouth ventured further south than he was expecting, Nacho collapsed fully onto the leather couch, covering his eyes with one arm and barely containing a strangled gulp.

It’s okay, though. It was his first time; he’d been nervous and embarrassed. Now, his Nachito knows how good it can be with him. He’ll be much more comfortable and ready for more once Lalo wines and dines him at his own swanky home instead of his Tio Hector’s.

That Sunday, Lalo waltzes through the unlocked patio door, meat, veggies and tequila tucked securely under his arms. He hears the TV blaring in the living room and figures he’ll set up before he announces his presence to Nacho. It’s his day off; the more surprised he is by skirt-steak fajitas and sex, the prouder Lalo will be of his handiwork. Begrudgingly, Lalo has to announce his presence with his booming voice over the TV instead of the sizzling of the meat on the skillet.

“Eh, Ignacio! Where do you keep the cast-iron pans?”

After a beat of silence, he expects Nacho to come whipping around the corner to show him personally. The volume of whatever musical is playing slowly lowers instead.

“What?”, comes a groggy and yet, high-pitched reply from the living room.

_Definitely not Ignacio…_

Slinging a kitchen rag over his shoulder and narrowing his eyes, Lalo swaggers around the corner to see who it is that has the audacity to address him so casually. A tiny woman with a pair of messy buns plopped on top of her head sits cross-legged on the floor. She’s resting her elbows on the coffee table as she switches her focus between the _Phantom of the Opera_ and (messily) painting her nails.

She’s alone. There’s no sign of Nacho anywhere.

“Who are you?”, he asks lowly.

She blinks disinterestedly at him, just now acknowledging Lalo now that he’s spoken.

“Jo.”, she exaggerated the “oh” sound and gave him a dismissive wave while reaching for a crack pipe that had been hidden by her nail supplies.

_Not only does this cabr_ _ó_ _na not know who she’s dealing with, but she’s high out of her mind…_

Jo finishes her hit and starts when she turns back toward the movie and sees Lalo crouched down at her level in the corner of her eye. His lips have parted into a Cheshire catlike grin. His anger at the implications of Jo’s residence only betrayed by how he’s twisting the kitchen rag in his hands.

“Where is Ignacio, mi querido?”

She tips her head towards where the bedrooms must be, eager that she’s not the focus on Lalo’s displeasure.

“He’s with Amber. They’re busy.”

Lalo’s smile drops to a scowl as he stands to his full towering height. He saunters towards the hallway she gestured towards. Jo gulps and turns the volume up a few notches when he throws the dishrag to the floor.

He can hear them once he rounds the corner and there’s no mistaking what Jo meant by “busy” at this point. Lalo bites his lip and reminds himself of how upset his abuelita would be if he raised his hand to this young woman. The thought has barely formed in his head when it’s quickly banished once his eyes fall upon this serpent, this Amber, that his charmed his Nachito.

She is the furtherest thing from seductive. Lalo immediately recognizes the telltale head lolling and slow blinking of a tweaker in another dimension, removed from their surroundings. Amber absently flexes one hand in the sheets while rubbing the other one along the back of Nacho’s head. Her muted reactions and wide eyes are uncanny and Lalo’s pupils constrict at a sudden realization; Ignacio was just a tad more responsive with him that this crackhead in the midst of a meth binge.

It’s then that Lalo also recognizes that the sounds he’d been hearing from the hallway were all coming from Nacho as he worked between Amber’s legs. He’s way more into it than she is. He chews on this as he pushes off the wall and heads to the bathroom.

Lalo lowers down onto the shower bench and waits.

X-----X-----X

“Alright. Let’s stop.”

Nacho was already on the verge of tears when he made the suggestion. Amber’s delayed blink in response almost pushes him over the edge.

“What? Babe?”, she slurs.

He sits up and gently pushes her knees back together, feeling stupid for expecting her to give him a reason to feel safe and at home in this coldly decorated place.

“I can make you some dinner… there’s a box of Kraft Mac, still.”

Nacho blinks at her from the foot of the bed, instantly comparing her meager offer to the very person he’s fighting kicking and screaming not to become even more enamored with. He wipes his mouth as he stands and leaves his, no, THE bedroom. Nacho can’t stomach her vacant stare for another second.

He stumbles to the sink, wiping one hand off on his briefs and switching on the water with the other. Nacho shudders down onto his elbows, splashing water onto his face to keep from unraveling further.

He’d been aware of the creeping loneliness that’s been blossoming within him; no matter how many people he has over, the house still feels empty. Missing Lalo, being comfortable around him, is so much worse than being on edge as he tries to read him. Just another layer of complexity to his betrayal of the Salamancas.

Nacho stands upright again after one last splash, finally reigning in on control of his breath. He’s opening his eyes when arms wind loosely around his waist. He meets Lalo’s calculating gaze right as he presses them both against the counter.

“You thought you’d pray the gay with some pussy, eh?”, he whispers as his mustache tickles the skin behind his ear.

“Lalo, that’s-“

He stops when Lalo’s right hand wraps loosely around his throat, thumb stroking over his pulse point.

“Oh, was that your first time with her too? You use that line on all your lovers, then?”

Lalo’s tone has turned accusatory and dark. It halts Nacho’s shaking and he bizarrely feels like he has more control again. Maybe, he can talk him down…

That hope is dashed when Lalo spins him around to face him fully. His grip on Nacho’s throat tightens. Their noses nearly touch.

“You know, I made you a nice dinner, I fuck you real gentle, cuddle afterwards… and that’s still not good enough. Couldn’t wait go find yourself some whores.”, he growls down at him.

“They’re my roommates. They’re company.”, Nacho rasps.

He’s glad Lalo’s squeezing his neck at the moment. It keeps the sound of his arousal at this forceful show of possessiveness, of being wanted.

“Oh yeah, she was great company just now. Got a real way with words… kind of like you the other night.”

Now, he’s really got to explain himself, ASAP. Lalo eases his grip and crowds him a little less into the vanity, ready to reign in his anger enough to hear him out. As Nacho opens his mouth again, he spots the girls as they stop by his bathroom and look in on them. Amber has pulled her bra and shorts on and Jo is helping her walk in a straight line. They may be high out of their minds, but even they can detect the danger Nacho is in, nearly naked and being manhandled by his boss.

Still the girls blink and turn away, leaving him alone with Lalo. Nacho knows that, rationally, the two of them together don’t stand against Lalo, but it still stings. After everything he’s done for him, the meager comfort they’ve provided to him through the harshest year of his life. They still left him.

Truly, his only hope now is to tame in the lion. Nacho slowly winds his arms around Lalo’s waist and looks up at him through his eyelashes.

“I was scared of how much I liked it with you.”, he offers up the truth, knowing Lalo will likely misunderstand the _why_ of his reasoning.

The hand on his throat slides slowly down to rest on his bare and heaving abdomen. Lalo heaves out a sigh and levels him with a sad smile.

“Ignacio, none of these other cabróns would dare say anything about us being together. They know better.”

He’s jumped to exactly the wrong conclusion. Nacho pulls Lalo down to meet him in a kiss before he can ask any more questions. He moans into Lalo’s mouth as the other man’s hands slide under his briefs and slowly work them down his ass. He regards Nacho serenely when the shorter man pulls away to catch his breath.

“Shower. I can’t stand the smell of her on you.”

The water’s still warming up when Lalo pushes him into the tiled wall and devours him in a kiss. Nacho quickly learns that whatever he gives to Lalo, he gets it back trifold. Be it the kisses, his caresses, attempts to disrobe Lalo, or his thrusting… he relishes it, can’t get enough of it.

“Lo siento. Lo siento…”, Nacho whispers into Lalo’s lips as he’s stroked to full hardness.

“It’s okay, mi amor. Let me take care of you…”

Nacho’s pupils blow out and the tears he’d been forcing back at Amber’s aloofness finally leak past his eyes at the sentiment. More cascade as he gives up on containing himself. They’re all lost under the spray of the shower, anyway.

“Here, amorcito…”, Lalo murmurs as he maneuvers him towards the shower bench, only propping one knee up on the surface. Nacho braces his forearms against the wall. He moans when Lalo leans over him to bite his bulging biceps.

Lalo takes his time kissing down from his shoulders to the base of his spine and finally his asshole. A strangled moan from deep in his chest escapes him as Lalo laps at him. It’s so intimate and feels so good that he drops his head between his shoulders to keep from blacking out. Nacho’s eyes flutter as he feels like air is being forced out of his body from bottom to top.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight. Dios mio… it’s amazing.”, Lalo whispers as he bottoms out, kissing behind Nacho’s ear.

Nacho can’t form words at first. It’s like his brain and mouth are no longer connected. He feels so impossibly full and yet needs more. It takes him several more shuddering breaths to gather his thoughts and speak.

“Please…”

Lalo presses his palms into the base of his spine, arching his ass up. He thrusts, Nacho moans.

“Like that?”, Nacho can practically hear that trademark smirk spreading across his face.

“Harder.”

A few more gasped pleas later, and Lalo is thrusting into him at the perfect pace and the perfect angle. He rocks into it numbly, biting his arm every so often and spreading his fingers onto the wet tiling to keep present and from disappearing into oblivion.

“Please. Please. Pleaseeee.”

“Be a good boy and come on my cock, Ignacio, baby…”, Lalo coos in response to his shameless pleading. He speeds his thrusts up.

That does it. He comes so hard that no amount of grounding techniques keep him from truly blacking out. Nacho’s vaguely aware of his arms sliding down the wall and arms wrapping around him so he doesn’t collapse into the floor. When he blinks back to consciousness, his eyelashes brush against Lalo’s clavicle.

“Eh, that’s where I’m ticklish, amorcito.”, Lalo rumbles as he squeezes his arms tighter around him.

They’re on the floor of the shower, the warm water is still cascading down onto them. Nacho lays between Lalo’s legs as he squeezes him into his chest. He sheepishly begins rubbing his palm through Lalo’s chest hair.

“I’m sorry.”, Nacho whispers one last time, for more things than he can even begin to express.

Lalo chuckles, the vibrations sounding oddly like that of a purring cat from where his ear is pressed into his chest.

“I forgive you, Nachito.”

He tilts Nacho’s chin up and sloppily kisses into his slack mouth. For now, the lion is satiated.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback/comments are always appreciated!


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